


Reciprocation

by fuzipenguin



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Other, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28479285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Jazz doesn't know what he really needs, but Prowl suggested it, and Bumblebee is happy to provide.
Relationships: Bumblebee/Jazz, off screen Bumblebee/Wheeljack
Comments: 34
Kudos: 72
Collections: Secret Solenoid '20-'21





	Reciprocation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PixeledPurple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixeledPurple/gifts).



> for the prompt: Bumblebee/Jazz- Anything shippy with these two because I've seen so little of it but they have great chemistry. NSFW is great but not required

“Bee.”

“Yeah, boss?” Bumblebee asked, raising his head from the datapad he’d been reading. “Need something?”

Jazz plopped on the couch next to Bumblebee and slumped down, resting his head on Bumblebee’s shoulder. Bumblebee bemusedly stared at the top of Jazz’s helm, frame a little stiff. It wasn’t that he wasn’t close with his commanding officer. They definitely weren’t as close as Mirage and Jazz were but Bumblebee knew without a doubt that Jazz would fall on a landmine for him and vice versa.

Although knowing Jazz, he’d somehow still find a way to save them both without either of them getting a scratch.

Regardless, they were close, but there was still a divide between them. Jazz would throw his arm over Bumblebee or lean into him, but not to this extent. This type of behavior was reserved for Prowl. Jazz didn’t even snuggle into Mirage like this.

“Prowl’s still in MedBay,” Jazz complained with a little sigh.

Ah. That explained a lot. Although he wondered if Jazz tracked Bumblebee down specifically or he was just the first person he’d come across.

“Did Ratchet kick you out or something?” Bumblebee ventured.

“Or somethin’,” Jazz replied. “Said Prowl needed to rest, and I was keepin’ him awake. He didn’t kick me out so much as I felt guilty and left.”

Bumblebee blinked, nonplussed. “I didn’t think you knew what guilt felt like.”

Jazz jerked away from Bumblebee, his lips turned down in a small pout. “Bee, that’s mean! And I do, actually… but most times I jus’ ignore it.”

“Ah, of course. Well… Jazz… that still doesn’t tell me what you need me to do.”

“Oh, I dunno. Dunno what I need. And Prowl was no help.”

This time Jazz went limp against the back of the couch although they were still pressed together from knee to shoulder. He seemed so despondent that Bumblebee flicked off his datapad and placed it down on the nearby table. Turning on his cushion, he brought his legs up beneath him, daring to his knee to rest upon Jazz’s thigh.

“Does that mean you were asking him what he thought you needed?”

“Yeah. Been restless the past few days. Prowl’s usually great at helpin’ me figure out what I should do, but this whole processor meltdown of his is a real drag. His great idea was for me to get fragged. His actual words were: ‘Jazz, you need your spike sucked’. Can ya believe it? Ole Prowler, tellin’ me to ‘face.”

Bumblebee stared at the side of Jazz’s helm as he gesticulated while talking, entranced as always at his superior’s ability to mimic voices so accurately. Although it was a little creepy hearing those particular words in Prowl’s voice.

But…

“Well, maybe’s he’s right,” Bumblebee suddenly heard himself say. “And I’m happy to do it.”

Oh, slag. Slag everything that was holy, he had actually said that _out loud_.

Jazz went absolutely still, even his ventilations stopping. Bumblebee ever so slowly started to lean away, suddenly wary. Jazz would never hurt him, but if Bumblebee had managed to destroy their friendship, he would never forgive himself. 

“… yeah?” Jazz replied, so nonchalantly that Bumblebee knew that the other mech was treading carefully.

“Yeah, well, I mean if you don’t have anyone else to go to. And… and it’s just stress relief, right? Doesn’t mean anything besides that. I mean, sure, I like you and I hope you like me, but it wouldn’t be anything other than a friends with benefits type thing, which isn’t to say that I would expect anything in return because I wouldn’t although I wouldn’t say no either and…”

Jazz’s hand on Bumblebee’s knee made his rambling monologue come to a halt, his voice emerging faint and just a little squeaky. Bumblebee glanced down at Jazz’s fingers, the black stark against Bumblebee’s yellow plating.

“Hullo, Bluestreak,” Jazz said, his frame suddenly relaxed again when Bumblebee looked up. Bumblebee hadn’t witnessed the release of tension, but it was still gone nevertheless, and he started to vent a little easier.

“Shut up,” Bumblebee said once he realized what name Jazz had called him. He ducked his head in embarrassment.

“I like ya too, mech. Think ya could actually do a friends with benefit arrangement?” Jazz asked softly. “Cuz I’m interested, but not if it’s gonna wreck things between us. I gotta know I can count on ya out in the field. That’s far more important than getting’ my spike wet.”

Bumblebee looked up and nodded confidentially. “I’ve done it before. Still am, actually.”

“Ah, that thing ya got with Wheeljack?” Jazz asked and Bumblebee should have known that Jazz would be aware of that little relationship. “That’s been goin’ on a while now.”

“Yup. And I’m no closer to wanting to bond him than from when we started.”

“Hm.”

Jazz stared at him for several seconds before slumping down further onto the couch. He slowly spread his legs and Bumblebee heard the quiet whir of a small transformation. Despite himself, his gaze became glued to the apex of Jazz’s thighs, where a gorgeous black and white spike began emerging out of its sheath.

“Go on then.”

Bumblebee licked his lips and started to lean forward when his surroundings registered. He froze in place, looking up at Jazz. “Uh… here?”

Jazz smirked at him. “Sure, why not?”

“Well, isn’t it kinda against regs?” Bumblebee countered, noting the challenging glint of Jazz’s visor.

“Aw, come on, Bee… live a little! I outrank anyone who might wander by. And it’s the middle of zeta shift so that’s not likely anyway.”

Jazz had a point. Bumblebee had been sitting in the rec room for two hours without hearing anyone else before Jazz had appeared. Zeta traditionally was a quiet shift. And Prowl was in MedBay, so…

“Alright.” Without any further hesitation, Bumblebee squirmed around and dove down onto Jazz’s spike.

Jazz jerked with a quiet curse, his hand coming up to rest on Bumblebee’s nape. His fingers tightened down, in praise or warning, Bumblebee couldn’t tell. If it was a warning, Bumblebee didn’t care. He loved sucking spike, loved swallowing one down until it bumped the back of his throat, and then went deeper so that oral lubricant welled up in his mouth and trickled out between his lips just like it was now.

Bumblebee swallowed twice before slowly rising back up, the fingers of his left hand encircling the base. He lightly rotated his grip from side to side as he suckled the spike head, glossa lightly stroking the sensitive ring just beneath it.

“Primus, Bee… where ya been hidin’ all my life?” Jazz murmured. His fingers flexed on the back of Bumblebee’s neck and he moaned quietly around his mouthful. Jazz experimentally tightened his hand and Bumblebee’s hips jerked.

He abruptly pulled off. Gasping out a rushed ‘everything’s fine!’, Bumblebee dove off the couch and landed on his knees between Jazz’s pedes. His mouth immediately returned to Jazz’s spike, lipping and kissing the underside from tip to base as he held it steady. When he glanced up, Bumblebee saw Jazz staring at him, visor a dark blue and mouth open slightly.

There was no hint of shock. Instead, Jazz gazed down with an expression of appreciation on his face.

Good.

Because of his bubbly personality, most mecha responded with surprise when Bumblebee showed off his interfacing talents. His partners often thought he was a virgin or inexperienced, but sweetness didn’t equal untried. He had had plenty of experience and wasn’t fragile.

“Ya don’t have to prove anything to me, Bee,” Jazz said, voice staticky at the edges. “I know ya.”

That he did. Jazz knew him better than most. He knew Bumblebee’s skill for subterfuge, his experience with explosives, and all about the dark edges that lurked just beneath the bright surface. If there was anyone Bumblebee could truly be himself with, it was Jazz.

Optics lidding partway, Bumblebee licked a wet stripe from base to tip before swallowing Jazz back down again. As he did so, he scooted closer, resting his bumper against the edge of the couch. Still raised up on his knees, he spread them slightly and wormed his hand down between his thighs, sinking two fingers into his already lubed up valve.

Jazz’s spike was thick and of a nice width. Bumblebee bet it would feel great sliding inside him and he was awfully tempted to stand up and plop down atop it, but Jazz hadn’t said anything about reciprocation. And until Jazz invited it, Bumblebee wasn’t going to start something that could potentially cross a line.

So, he devoted himself to the task at hand, reveling in every little moan that trickled past Jazz’s lips and every little twitch of his fingers on Bumblebee’s neck. A third digit entered his own valve, twisting and thrusting until he hovered on the edge of release. He held back, however, despite the ache in the base of his back strut, because he wanted to overload along with Jazz.

Fortunately, he didn’t have long to wait.

Bumblebee didn’t know if he was that talented, or Jazz really had been desperate for an overload at someone else’s hands but barely five minutes in, Jazz started moaning more urgently. Bumblebee redoubled his efforts, sucking harder around the head and stroking the base in small little pumps of his fist. He could have swallowed him down all the way again and stayed there, milking Jazz’s spike with this throat cables, but Bumblebee preferred the taste of transfluid on his glossa instead of down his intake.

So, he stayed the course, and it didn’t take much longer before Jazz overloaded, his hand clamping down tight on the back of Bumblebee’s head as he made tantalizing noises of pleasure. Hot splashes of transfluid coated Bumblebee’s glossa and lips and he swallowed it all down, moaning at the faint rush of charge which made his mouth tingle. He finally allowed himself to tip over as well, sweeping his thumb several times over his anterior node as he thrust his fingers as deep as they could go.

Bumblebee’s release felt so good that as it eased, all he could do was sink down onto the heels of his pedes, slumping forward into the cradle of Jazz’s thighs. He reluctantly let Jazz’s spike slip out of his mouth. The depressurizing length bumped against his cheek as Bumblebee pressed his forehelm against the seam of Jazz’s thigh and torso.

“That was great…” Jazz sighed, gently stroking the top of Bumblebee’s head. “Truly superb, little Bee.”

“Thanks,” Bumblebee replied faintly. His head continued to spin as his valve calipers weakly clenched one last time around his fingers. “Happy to be of service.”

“I’m glad you both had such a great time. Now perhaps you can move to quarters?”

Bumblebee jerked upright and stared in horror at the imposing figure of Optimus Prime standing halfway across the room. Optimus’s gaze was fixed on a spot on the wall behind them, well above their heads, but Bumblebee had no doubt he’d got an opticful when he had come in.

“Oh, no, Prime, I’m so sorry!” Bumblebee exclaimed, ripping his fingers out of himself and slamming his panel closed. “I didn’t hear you come in! And Jazz said -”

“What? What did I say?” Jazz replied. He sat up and grabbed Bumblebee’s lubricant damp hand as he held it up, at a loss how best to discreetly clean up. Of course, Jazz solved that problem by sucking Bumblebee’s fingers into his mouth and laving them with his glossa.

Bumblebee squeaked, his array throbbing at the sight, but still mortally embarrassed at having been caught in flagrante delicto by the Prime himself. He’d love to let the finger sucking develop further, but Optimus was exuding more and more waves of Uncomfortable Disappointment every second.

“Jazz! Why didn’t you notice him and stop me?” Bumblebee hissed, reluctantly jerking his hand out of Jazz’s grasp.

Jazz relaxed back against the couch, smirking. “Maybe you were completely blowin’ my processor.”

As if. That had been a good overload, but Bumblebee sincerely doubted Jazz didn’t have at least one subroutine devoted to his surroundings at all times. No, it was more likely that centuries spent spying on others had developed into sexual exhibitionism or a kink of getting caught. With Jazz, one could never tell.

“Cover yourself, please, Jazz,” Optimus said with a sigh when Jazz suddenly popped up, arms stretching above his head. It put his valve on level with Bumblebee’s optics and despite himself, he couldn’t help but lick his lips at the delectable sight. He loved eating out a valve as much as he liked going down on his partner's spike.

“Sure thing, Opt.” Bumblebee guiltily looked up to catch Jazz grinning down at him even as his cover slid closed. “C’mon, Bee. My quarters are bigger.”

Bumblebee absently put his hand in Jazz’s when he stretched it down. He was easily tugged to his feet, mouth agape as he stared at Jazz. “You... you want me to come to your quarters?”

“Told ya I liked ya,” Jazz said, his smirk growing. “And ya said ya wouldn’t say ‘no’ to some reciprocation…”

The words took a second to register and then Bumblebee was bolting towards the doorway, pulling a chortling Jazz along behind him.

~ End

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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